


Bigmouth Strikes Again

by FopMistress



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Arguing, Awkwardness, Confusion, Cross-Generational Friendship, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Phone Sex, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-29
Updated: 2012-02-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 22:24:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FopMistress/pseuds/FopMistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the second of my Sherlock and Molly-centric works. This might be best read along with Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want as this leads on from that but it works as a stand alone work too. </p><p>Sherlock is finding the whole boyfriend-girlfriend situation with Molly Hooper a bit challenging to say the least and fortunately John Watson and Mrs Hooper are there to lend a friendly and guiding hand to save the situation with a few wry laughs, a bit of awkwardness and some arguments along the way. But then again, this is Sherlock and life is never simple, is it? He learns that he does have friends, relationships do need commitment from both parties and sometimes during phone sex you can say things that can change your life in a heartbeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bigmouth Strikes Again

“Shit! SHIT!”  
  
John had been quietly sitting with his laptop updating his blog and minding his own business when he heard Sherlock roaring through the wall and a single gunfire shot rang out. John cocked his head towards the sound and waited a few moments and then when all seemed calm, he continued to type. He was completely used to Sherlock’s erratic behaviour by now being his flatmate and Sherlock’s best friend. He had just finished a sentence when Sherlock burst out of his room looking flustered. He grabbed his violin and bow and played a few bars before flinging the instrument and bow onto a chair.

 

“DAMN!”  
  
“Something wrong, Sherlock?”  
  
“Sartre was right. Hell IS other people. John, please make me a cup of tea.”  
  
Sherlock lifted up the violin and bow, placed them on the floor and sank into the chair, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. John sighed and left his blog alone to put the kettle on, returning to check on Sherlock who was deep in thought.  
  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
Sherlock glared at him. “Not really, but as I can’t appear to come to some conclusive action as to what to do, I suppose I have no choice.”  
  
John disappeared into the kitchen.  
  
“Keep talking to me. What’s up? I heard you talking to somebody just before you shot the wall?”  
  
Sherlock didn’t open his eyes.  
  
“You are correct.”  
  
John reappeared into the living room with a tray set with a tea pot and two porcelain cups. Sherlock opened his eyes and made a cup of tea, expression impassive. John quietly watched him. He had his own theories as to what was wrong but knew that if he interfered by telling Sherlock what he thought, he would clam up completely. John made his and settled back into his chair.  
  
“I had been talking to a woman before I shot the wall.”  
  
“Any particular woman? Oh - THE woman by any chance?”  
  
“No. I was talking to a woman who I may have offended in some way.”  
  
“I find that hard to believe” John chuckled and stopped as Sherlock looked like he might turn his gun on him. “Sorry. What’s happened?”  
  
“I have been seeing a woman.”  
  
John couldn’t help himself. “WHO? Sherlock…in seeing do you mean are you going out with a woman, as in dating?”  
  
“If you wish to call it that, then yes I have been seeing a woman.”  
  
The side of John’s mouth twitched in a smirk he hid by sipping his tea. Well, well well! He had been right. The man who claimed he did not need anyone and was diagnosed the highly functioning Sociopath was as human as anyone else. This was too good. Sherlock had been disappearing every Tuesday night at approximately 7:30pm into a taxi and he would reappear the next day, claiming to have been working on a new case that was Top Secret but he would always come back animated, extremely chirpy and somehow less brittle, as if he had let his guard down by something or someone. And then there were the overheard fervent conversations coming from Sherlock’s bedroom that were definitely not platonic.  
  
“So, who is she?”  
  
Sherlock sipped  his tea. “You know who she is, John.”  
  
John knew he had no room for manoeuvre and it was pointless lying. “Is it the same lady we both know who updated her status on Facebook about four months ago to In a Relationship and who usually updates her status on a Tuesday night with something like “My man is coming round later and I can’t wait to see him” and then refuses to tell people who he is, I should know as I’ve tried enough times to get it out of her but she keeps saying “I don’t want to jinx it but he’s lovely and I’m so happy“. Sherlock, are you seeing Molly?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
John grinned ear to ear. “At last, Sherlock has a girlfriend! That’s absolutely -  “  
  
“Do you really think that is an appropriate noun for Molly? She is clearly not a girl and much more than just a friend.”  
  
“Oh you are a pedantic bastard sometimes. No, all of the time. Okay, what about partner?”  
  
“That would be appropriate if we were co-habiting and we’re not.”  
  
“Well, I really have no idea - wait, what about lady? She’s your lady!”  
  
“That will have to do. It still doesn’t sound quite right but yes, Molly is my lady.”  
  
“Wow…I’m surprised but really pleased for you. When did this start then?”  
  
Sherlock smiled slightly. “The night before The Fall. You know how much Molly helped me with that, I honestly couldn’t have done that without her. We met up to discuss how she was going to help me and then everything just changed…I still can’t get to grips with how much. Would you believe, she called me a git and it was like it all changed just like that. Extraordinary. She’s… _lovely._ And I have managed to fuck it up. Maybe it’s easier just to drop her and move on. I’m not relationship material am I?”  
  
“I’m sure that we can sort this out. Molly would be utterly devastated if you dumped her. You know how she felt about you when she gave you that present and then you analysed her in front of everyone…you really are a work of art!”  
  
“Thank you for reminding me, I’m sure. Do you want to help or not?”  
  
“Sorry of course I do. What actually happened tonight?”  
  
“I’m not even sure myself. She asked me if I wanted to go out for a meal or to the cinema and I said no and she asked why and I said I would rather stay in and spend some time with her and then she accused me of wanting to keep her secret and we never did anything couple-y together and it had been five months now and she deserved better. I tried to explain that I was not used to seeing someone and that we were a couple we didn’t have to flaunt it in front of everyone and she said that she just wanted to be normal and at least do some normal stuff and then hung up.”  
  
“So, you’ve never actually gone out anywhere?”  
  
“Well, no. I usually go to her flat, she makes something to eat or we order pizza or maybe curry or Chinese, we watch some television  and chat and then we sleep together. We play Scrabble and Monopoly sometimes too. I do let her win occasionally, to be fair.”  
  
John was trying not to let his jaw hang open. “Sherlock…let me get this straight. Molly helps save your life even though you’ve been unspeakably rude and brusque to her in the past, you start seeing each other and you are sleeping with her and yet you do not actually really treat like as a normal…lady?”  
  
“Incorrect. I see her every Tuesday night.”  
  
“Sherlock…you’re compartmentalising your relationship with her. No wonder Molly’s nose is out of joint.”  
  
“It’s easier. She knows she will see me and have my full and undivided attention on a Tuesday night. I thought I was being sensible and considerate of another person for once.”  
  
“Sherlock, for Christ’s sake, if you really like someone you do more than see them on a Tuesday night, you idiot. You go places with them and let them update their Facebook statuses with In A Relationship With Sherlock Holmes. You actually TELL people you’re with Molly. Jesus.”  
  
John immediately felt sorry because the bewildered expression in Sherlock’s eyes was affecting. He had forgotten that Sherlock genuinely wasn’t like other men and that interpersonal relationships were difficult to the point of being impossible. John, you  stupid prick. _You’re a doctor_.  
  
“I’m sorry, mate. I forgot myself. I do want to help. Are you afraid of what people will think?”  
  
“Maybe a bit. I’ve never actually had a relationship with anyone, male or female, before. I’m 34 and people will just ask difficult questions. I’m aware that it’s not considered normal.”  
  
“But that’s completely normal for you. Remember, you are by your own admission a highly functioning sociopath and you actually do technically have Anti-Social Personality Disorder.”  
  
“Thank you for your diagnosis Dr Watson. You are correct. Your point is?”  
  
“Your cognition and perceptions of life are vastly opposed to the norm and now that you’re seeing Molly, you’re having to try to fit in with someone who functions at a more say, everyday level than you. That has got to be pretty  difficult.”  
  
“Maybe we should split up then. I really don’t want to hurt her in the long run and that’s what I’m afraid I will do. Do you know what she said to me before…before we first slept together, the night before the Fall? She just wanted to give us a chance.”  
  
“You slept together then? Wow. I had no idea.”  
  
Sherlock’s face softened into actual tenderness. “It’s not something you boast about, John. I do have at least some manners. Yes…she was wonderful. I had no idea women could be like that.”  
  
John squinted at Sherlock who was lost in memories. “Sherlock, you don’t have to answer me but I take it you have actually had other…sexual partners?”  
  
He smiled, a huge unembarrassed grin.” No.”  
  
“So…Molly was your first?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“This is just the Doctor in me so don’t tell me to piss off but I take it you do practice safe sex?”  
  
“Oh John, PLEASE!” Sherlock started to chuckle. “It was quite funny actually. We were on the bed and  we were naked by this time…”  
  
“Sherlock, keep it clean for God‘s sake!”  
  
“…and I said I suppose I should go and get some condoms then? Molly said oh no I didn’t think of that what an idiot what do we do I really don’t make a habit of this honestly and she was blushing and do you know, her blush nearly went down to her…”  
  
“SHERLOCK!”  
  
“So I said where on earth would I get them? Molly suggested I go to the 24 hour grocers 10 minutes walk away or maybe the Gents downstairs so I just put on a bathrobe, got some money and went downstairs  and got some. She said you can’t go out just like that  and I said watch me. Molly couldn’t stop giggling. We do, don’t worry. Anyway - back to the problem in hand. I have no idea how to handle this. Damn human interaction to HELL.”  
  
“I’ve been thinking. Molly does think you’re fine just as you are. She knows you well enough and I can‘t see her being silly enough to try to change you. All you have to do is maybe do some more things together. It doesn’t have to be much - go for a walk, a cup of tea in a cafe, to the art gallery, the cinema - whatever. You can still do your work and be on call if something comes up, just let her know what’s happening and spend more time with her. I’m afraid you will have to be a bit more flexible.”  
  
“Oh GOD. What a massive bore - but you’re right damn you. I’ll call her to apologise.”  
  
Sherlock disappeared into his bedroom. John could hear a massive “FUCK!” Sherlock reappeared and slumped in his chair.  
  
“She answered it but she immediately hung up.”  
  
Just then there was a knock and Mrs Hudson appeared carrying a round Tupperware box and a jar of strawberry jam.  
  
“Evening boys. I’ve been baking and I thought you might like a freshly baked scone with a cup of tea. Did I hear shooting earlier?”  
  
“Sorry Mrs Hudson, it was me. I felt like shooting the wall.”  
  
“I do wish you wouldn’t dear. It’s not good for my blood pressure. You’ve got a face like a wet weekend. What’s the matter?”  
  
“Sherlock, go and put the kettle on so we can all have a cuppa and have some of these lovely smelling scones.”  
  
“You’re only saying that to get me out of the way so you can talk about me.”  
  
“Absolutely right. Now bugger off. Do sit down Mrs Hudson.”  
  
With bad grace, Sherlock uncurled himself and flounced into the kitchen.  
  
“Sherlock’s having woman trouble. No, not THE woman, another one.”  
  
“What kind of trouble, dear?”  
  
“JOHN!”  
  
“Sherlock, Mrs Hudson is going to know sooner or later so it might as well be now.”  
  
“Get on with it then.”  
  
“Sherlock has a girlfriend.”  
  
“LADY!”  
  
“Sherlock, just make the bloody tea. We’ve decided that he doesn’t like girlfriend to describe Molly so we‘ve chosen lady.”  
  
“Molly Hooper? The nice girl from St Barts?”  
  
“That’s her. Sherlock is having some trouble getting his head around the fact that if you see someone, you don’t just see them on a Tuesday night and only at their flat. Understandably Molly’s a bit cheesed off. They‘ve been going out for five months and Molly just hung up on Sherlock.”  
  
Sherlock appeared with a tray, cups and a teapot and sat them on the table.  
  
“Well, that is a problem. You will have to say sorry to Molly and that you’ll try harder next time. Why don’t you buy her a nice present?”  
  
“I’m terrible at buying anyone a present. I really can’t be bothered with buying something that the recipient will secretly despise but will pretend to be enraptured over. That’s why I give money for Christmas and birthday presents.”  
  
“Mrs Hudson, could you help Sherlock think of something?”  
  
John made the tea and cut the scones up while Sherlock paced up and down restlessly.  
  
“Of course I can. What about flowers or chocolates, dear?”  
  
Sherlock waved this away.  
  
“Too obvious. That’s what someone buys at the last minute on Valentine’s Day when they have no taste or imagination.”  
  
“Maybe you’re right. What about a pretty necklace? Or one of those charm bracelets? They’re all the rage with the young girls at the moment.”  
  
Sherlock stopped and rubbed his face, mulling this over. John took a  jam laden scone and chewed appreciatively. “These are really good Mrs H.”  
  
“You’re very welcome.”  
  
“I like the idea of a charm bracelet. It has significance to both the wearer and the giver. Where can I get one?”  
  
“Go online and have a look, what about Amazon?”  
  
Sherlock found his laptop and booted it up, sitting on the floor.  
  
“It’s all very well getting Molly a present but she’s still not speaking to me. I think I will have to ingratiate myself with her first. John, hand me my mobile please.”  
  
“What did your last slave die of? Here you go. Do you want a scone?”  
  
“Later. Winning Molly’s affections again is much more important.”  
 **  
Molly, I’m sorry. I will try harder. SH**  
  
  
Sherlock logged himself into his laptop with one hand while studying his mobile with the other.  
  
 **Why should I bother xx**  
  
Sherlock read out the texts.  
  
“Tell her how you feel about her, Sherlock dear. And be honest.”  
  
John gestured for Sherlock to hand his laptop to him.  
  
“I’ll look for a bracelet with Mrs Hudson while you sort your love life out.”  
  
“Love life? Isn’t that a little presumptuous?”  
  
John and Mrs Hudson flicked a in-complete-denial-but-he-bloody-is-and-doesn’t-know-what-to-do-with-himself look at each other.  
  
“Sherlock,  just stop being an annoying twit for once and  text Molly with your devastating wit and repartee.”  
 **  
You are putting kisses on your texts. Clearly you are still interested. SH**  
  
 **Everyone does that it means nothing xx  
  
If you were really angry you wouldn’t. SH**  
  
“I think we’ve found the perfect bracelet and charms?”  
  
Sherlock went over to John and Mrs Hudson and peered at the screen. There were two browser tabs open. One had a plain silver curb bracelet and the other a selection of little charms.  
  
“What you do Sherlock dear, is fix the charms onto the bracelet with those little clasps. We thought of a little silver cat as Molly loves Toby, this little silver and black gun for you and this little heart for - “  
  
John stopped her with a cutting motion in the air that Sherlock did not see.  
  
“Maybe not. Here’s a little shamrock for luck. That’s what I meant. Sorry.”  
  
Sherlock raised his eyebrows and smirked. Not fooled.  
  
“Those are rather charming. Yes. Just add them to the basket.”  
  
“When they come Sherlock, tell me and I’ll wrap them up for you in a little gift bag.”  
  
“Thank you Mrs Hudson…thank you both. I’m frankly clueless about this sort of thing and I’ve never had to do this before…thoughtful present buying. Give me the laptop and I’ll order them now.”  
  
“Sherlock, you’ve got a beep.”  
  
“Wait a minute…right, done.”  
 **  
I just want you to be there for me more and not treat me like a guilty secret  xx**  
  
  
 **I think so much of you darling. Please remember I’ve never had an intimate relationship before. Update your relationship status on FB. SH.**  
  
 **We can meet more often. You could come to Baker Street and stay the night. SH**  
  
  
“Would anyone mind if Molly stayed over with me occasionally?”  
  
“No, be my guest.”  
  
“Of course not dear.”  
 **  
In fact you could come over right now. SH.**  
  
Molly was at her flat sitting in her pink Tatty Teddy pyjamas watching Hollyoaks on Sky Planner and comfort eating the biggest bar of Galaxy chocolate she could find on her way home from work that night. Toby was sitting purring on her lap.  
  
 **Sherlock, I’m in my jim jams xx**  
  
“Would you mind awfully if Molly came over in her pyjamas? Start as you mean to go on and all that?”  
  
Molly was excited and still annoyed all at once. Damn Sherlock and his impetuosity but oh God…she had waited so long for this to happen, for him to acknowledge her relationship with him properly to everyone. She had been convinced that she was finished with Sherlock and had listened to Hot N’ Cold by Katy Perry on repeat in the bath with a double vodka and Coke. The lyrics were utterly bang on.  
  
“At least let her get dressed, dear. I’ll leave you to it. I can get some more scones if you like. I think I might have some Jaffa Cakes too. Is your room tidy and do you have clean sheets?”  
  
“Do you want me to make myself scarce, Sherlock?”  
  
“No, it’s fine. I have to show her that I’m fine with our relationship being public. Oh God…clean room…the walls are shot to bits. SHIT.”  
  
“She hasn’t said she’s coming over yet.”  
  
 **Molly, I’ll send a taxi for you now. I’ll pay. SH**  
  
“She will.”  
  
“Sherlock, cool your heels. Text her back and say, no PHONE her back and say that if she wants to come over, you’ll book a taxi in half an hour. That will give us enough time to tidy up a bit and get anything disgusting out of the fridge.”  
  
“But Molly’s used to disgusting things in fridges! It’s her _job_!”  
  
“Not actual body parts! When you open the fridge looking for milk, you shouldn‘t find cirrhotic livers. It’s a bit much even for Molly. I don’t take my patients home with me for instance and neither will she. Maybe we should buy you a separate fridge for that sort of thing? ”  
  
“I never thought of that actually. I’ll bin it.”  
  
“I’ll bin it and tidy up.”  
  
“Sherlock, do you want me to change your sheets while you phone Molly?”  
  
“Would you mind? I’m hopeless about that sort of thing.”  
  
“Not at all. It’s just nice that you’ve found yourself a nice girl. It’ll bring you out of yourself a bit.”  
  
Molly’s mobile phone rang. The ringtone was Don’t Stop Believing by the Glee cast.  
  
“Sher?”  
  
“Molly, I don’t mind if you come over in your pyjamas, it will be less to take off later, but my room is a mess. I‘m going to tidy things up and throw that piece of liver out you gave me out of the fridge. I‘ve done all my testing on it anyway.”  
  
Molly went very pink and giggled. John made a oh FFS face and Mrs Hudson disappeared into Sherlock’s bedroom, tutting.  
  
“What about coming over in half an hour? Mrs Hudson has made scones, they’re apparently good.”  
  
“Haven’t you had any? Have you actually had any dinner tonight?”  
  
Molly knew that sometimes Sherlock simply forgot to eat.  
  
“No, now you come to mention it and my stomach is rumbling. I think you need to come over to make sure that I eat tonight.”  
  
“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you can manage to eat all by yourself. Plus that’s emotional blackmail.”  
  
“Alright, I’ll have scones and jam. Do come over, Molly, I’ve been a prize idiot. I hope that you’ll forgive me. We’ll do more things together, I promise.”  
  
“I’m not asking you to change your life for me, Sher. I just want you to acknowledge our relationship and maybe do some simple things like going out for a cup of tea or a walk somewhere. I’m not trying to pressure you or scare you off but it’s been five months and you’ve make it clear to me that you…do like me at least. I can’t figure you out. When you’re alone with me you’re good company and we have a lot of fun - “  
  
“Don’t we just. I can hardly wait to get you into my bed.”  
  
Sherlock’s voice dropped and Molly felt a familiar stab of desire and herself growing damp in response. While Sherlock had been a virgin when they first slept together, he had been more than happy to learn how to please Molly and to find out what actually pleased him.  Molly had found to her delight that he was very affectionate in bed and eager to make sure they were both sexually satisfied which Molly delighted in. He was a welcome change from her previous sexual partners who didn’t notice that she would stare into the dark afterwards, feeling slightly grubby and used.  
  
She took a long, ragged breath as Sherlock’s voice dropped to a whisper.  
  
“I can tell by your breathing you’re aroused. If John and Mrs Hudson weren’t here I’d tell you exactly what I’m going to do with you later.”  
  
“John and Mrs Hudson? Can they hear -  “  
  
“No, no. John is tidying up and Mrs Hudson is changing my sheets so my room is presentable for you. Please forgive the bullet holes in the walls.”  
  
“Sher, you are crazy. Yes, I’ll come over.”  
  
Sherlock responded by punching the air with his free hand.  
  
“Wonderful. The taxi will be there at 8:30. I shall see you later.”  
  
And later came along, sparkling with hopeful promises.  Molly hopped into the taxi with her small rucksack and sat down. Her phone rang.  
  
“Hi Sher. I’m in the taxi.”  
  
“You should be 20 minutes. Molly, I am very hard and eager to see you. I don’t think I’ll be able to last.”  
  
“Sher, are you in your room?”  
  
“Yes. Mrs Hudson has just left - she says hello -  and John is still tidying up I believe. As soon as you get into my bedroom I want you to get on your knees. I want to climax so hard into your mouth. I’m absolutely rock hard for you and only you, my darling.”  
  
One of the plus points about Sherlock was that even when he was talking dirty - he was never crude. And he still managed to sound utterly _filthy._  
  
Molly squirmed in her seat and felt a pulse beating between her legs.  
  
“And when you’ve finished me off, I’m going to undress you so quickly and then you’re going to lower myself onto my face.”  
  
She gripped the seat. If she hadn’t been in a public taxi she would have started to masturbate by now and she knew that Sherlock could hear her breathing and also knew how wet she was. Oh God. She wished she was in the Tardis. Couldn’t the bloody taxi just break the speed limit just this once?  
  
“I can imagine how beautifully wet you are for me right now. I’m going to slide my tongue into you and I want you to absolutely grind yourself down on me. I want to feel you, smell you, taste you and hear you moan. I’m then going to move you so you’re hanging off the edge of my bed. That way, I’ll be able to work you with my fingers as well. Think of me licking your clitoris and stroking you with my fingers so deep inside. I’m going to tell you how much I absolutely love it and you. I’m not going to stop until you arch your back and scream as loudly as possible. I‘m going to give you as much pleasure as you want - ”  
  
At this point Molly actually wondered if it was possible to soak herself completely.  
  
“Sher, this is too much. I’m in a taxi and you’re there. I‘m soaking!”  
  
Then she froze. Uh oh. Sherlock froze in his bedroom and a cold prickle went down his spine. It was the moment when their relationship changed irrevocably and they BOTH knew there was no going back.  
  
Sherlock had said THE L WORD.  
  
“Sher? Are you still there?”  
  
Sherlock sat down on his bed, laid the phone down and put his head in his hands, stunned. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it and needed a minute to consider matters carefully.  
  
Molly was by this point virtually bouncing off the roof of the taxi with nerves but was also trying not to scream down the phone. She was terrified that he was having second thoughts, he didn’t mean it and would dump her out of fright. She felt rather sick.  
  
Five minutes ticked past. She didn’t hang up and held the phone to her ear. She could hear nothing but didn’t want to let go in case Sherlock said something.  
  
Ohgodohgodohgodohgodpleaselethimsaysomethingilovehimilovehimilovehimohpleasepleasepleaseicantstandit.  
  
Sherlock had remained motionless, his mind a maelstrom. He hadn’t meant to say it but there it was. He felt very nervous. He had never actually told another person that he loved them - not Mycroft or his parents, far less a lady. And yet - it felt alright. Strange and scary but alright. Strange mostly. No, scary. He could just hear Molly’s timid voice sounding small and thin from his phone. He took a deep breath and shook his head slightly. He was not cowardly and would not be so now.  
  
“Sher? Please talk to me?”

  
“Molly, sorry. I had to think.”

  
“Sher…what you said….”

  
“I meant it.”  
  
It was Sherlock’s turn to sound timid.  
  
“You did? I thought you were going to dump me. I was frightened you had been scared off. I love you too. I have done for months.”  
  
Sherlock chuckled, feeling better. It now felt unusual but not in a bad way.  
  
“I knew that darling. Look, I’m not used to all this romance business but here we are. Don’t expect hearts and flowers and public displays of affection and anything else that is needless and stupid. I love you. There, I‘ve said it.”  
  
“Sherlock, that’s all I want. I‘ll see you in a little while, we can talk more then, bye!”  
  
Sherlock stuck his head out from behind his bedroom door.  
  
“John? Can you please help me change the shamrock to a heart?”


End file.
